


Made of Memories

by carolinka (orphan_account)



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-29 03:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6358192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/carolinka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where people have more than a few potential soulmates, Isco takes his time to fall in love with Alvaro.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I posted his earlier today but I'm reposting it after adding about 1500 words because it's better this way to the plot of the story and I just can't sleep tonight and writing fanfiction is always a solution.

Isco’s favourite day of his whole life is his eleventh birthday.

He knew waking up and starting a new day could be joyful in certain situations, namely a wide and diverse breakfast, but he never knew it could make you choke with delight and make you hide your face in the pillow to wait until your heartbeat decreases. When he took a step out of his room, a thick envelope hit his head and he hissed, grabbing it harshly, tearing it apart from the thin rope that let it float in the air. Rubbing his forehead where the sharp corner hit him, he looked down at the envelope and chuckled when he saw it was a very believable Hogwarts letter from his mother, which he still keeps to this day, and there was a broom from his father and a football and a Real Madrid shirt from his grandparents on the floor.

But the best present was from universe, who gave him eleven lines on his arms to float. When he woke up and saw the marks on his arms he was so damn relieved that he cried before he could get up. He wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life alone. There were eleven people in this planet that might be suitable for him and it was more than enough, even for Isco’s never pleased heart.

He was a cheeky kid, very fond of the whole soulmate idea, so he kept showing his arm to those who asked how old he was that day.

Too bad it took only two days for three lines to disappear.

***

Isco has been called “a fucking anarchist” more than he cares to count and it’s fucking ridiculous on their part. He doesn’t even bother to explain the meaning of anarchism anymore (and he knows a lot about it because one day he gave up and decided to know all about it) because people are stupid and he just doesn’t give a fuck about them or fixing their mistakes. But the real reason he _just_ don’t care is that people are mean and listening to them only hurts.

So he doesn’t listen and when he hears accidentally, he doesn’t give a fuck.

Isco knows many people think it’s a sign that you are a good person if you have a lot of potential partners but it’s just an idiotic superstition because Hitler had nineteen potentials as far as historians knew and just _please._

Also, Isco is not a good person. He is meaner than ninety nine per cent of people, the one per cent being politicians and wealthy people. He isn’t helpful, he loves being lonely and he is crap at comforting people. He is also a liar, a very consistent liar.

The thing is, Isco has three lines left on his arm. Eight people were apparently not suitable for him, no matter what the fucking universe thinks. But those eight people were faster than him, so he hasn’t rejected anyone so far but he almost always told people it was he who didn’t want them, not the other way around. His mom has been worried that he is setting his standards too high and it kind of hurts because it sometimes sounds like his mother thinks he isn’t worth to be with a very good person, even though he knows it is not what she means. But he knows it will hurt his mother more if she knew it’s his son who isn’t wanted.

But in reality, Isco is just too proud to say that so far, eight people have rejected him and if Isco hadn’t spent his years communicating with people like him around the world, he would’ve thought it was a record.

When the first one rejected him, he was more than a little relieved. It was a middle-aged woman and while he felt so sad that the woman was still searching for her soulmate at that age, he was happy to say the woman goodbye at that moment. He now thinks sardonically, if pitying her is the reason he is still searching. He felt her motherly love for him as she got lost in his memories and sometimes he still tries to remember her voice when she said “You deserve all the happiness in the world little boy. Take care of yourself.” He wonders if the woman is happy right now and he always remembers to include her to his prayers at night.

The second person was a dark haired boy around his age. He was hesitant while he searched his memories, paying more attention to the ones he was outside and playing freely with his friends. He felt his jealousy, probably because wherever he was, it wasn’t safe to go out and play. “I wish we had a chance, but my father would kill me.” He wonders if his country is at peace today and always follows the world news for him but the world is still a horrible place and all he can hope is that the boy and his family are still alive and healthy, even his father.

The third person, he remembers sourly, was a bitch. A girl, who didn’t find him attractive enough, or funny enough but she didn’t spend much time in his mind and didn’t say anything to make him any better about being rejected. It was a little too hard on his little, soft heart he had back then.

He was rejected for the fourth time when he was fifteen. Those years, he almost never thought about his soulmate because there were better ways to waste his time, like watching Friends for fifth time or learning some language, which is spoken by only two thousand people in Russia. He didn’t give a shit at the time because the guy was shocked that he had a male potential soulmate and hearing him say “I don’t even know why the God thinks I would ever want to be with a boy.” made coping with it much easier.

Fifth one happened few months after the fourth one and it gave him a new area for his researchs. It was a Muslim girl, younger than him and she told him she has to refuse him because she was already betrothed to someone, a man who was forty seven years older than her. He was enraged because he felt the girl liked him but mostly, it was the sadness in her that made him run a campaign against “child brides”. It turned few heads but they were mostly thick, misogynistic, racist heads and they didn’t care what happened few thousand kilometres away from where they reside because it didn’t affect them directly.

Sixth and seventh lines disappeared without any memories because they found their soulmates before they had to look for him. He bitterly thought it was very stupid of them and he hates that he doesn’t have any solid reason to hate them and it’s fucking hard to hate a ghost accurately.

Eighth one happened to him when he was twenty. It was a guy and he had the same reason as the fourth one but he was much nicer. “Good luck man,” he said casually, cheerfully and Isco can’t hate him, even on his worst days.

He is twenty three years old, physically healthy and he is sitting in front of his TV and watching his favourite TV show which takes place in an alternate universe where soulmates don’t exist. The idea warms his long frozen heart, the idea of a world that no one can slip into his mind and judge him with his memories. His fingers graze the lines, an old habit he despises but can’t break.

It is a lovely September night and he can hear young people laughing and having drinks before a long night and he just dives deeper in his sofa. He wonders when it is that he’ll lose the last three lines on his arm.

***

He searches how to connect with your potential mates. It is the first time he has courage but definitely not the first time he thinks about it. After this morning’s fiasco, a lesbian searching his mind, he decides to take matters in his hand.

Apparently, it’s as easy as breathing but to Isco, it feels like drowning. It takes him hours, he suspects, to take his mind off his anger and despair to focus on the idea of his soulmate and he only manages it when he falls asleep.

His mind is hazed with alcohol he took to calm himself and he feels strangely embarrassed about it because every single person who explored his mind was totally sober and sharp at the time, which now sounds like an amazing life choice.

It feels like his mind is stripped from his body and he feels freer than he ever felt and he wonders if this feeling is what makes people reach for other’s mind, the liberty and independence. He almost laughs giddily but a sudden sharp pain in his chest makes him choke instead. He looks around hastily, trying to make sense of the darkness and brightness around, too mixed up to sense anything properly and everything is a mess down here and if his mind was anything like this, he doesn’t blame anyone for leaving him.

He runs, runs, runs and sometimes it feels like he can breathe evenly even though sometimes it feels like someone’s gripping his neck like they are trying to seize life out of him. He can’t find any memories but emotions are everywhere, attacking his from his insides and he just wants to fucking leave and never come near this person and as soon as the thought crosses his mind, he is at peace and he can feel he is going back to his body. Just when he is about to fit in his body once again, he thinks “I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t even know if they will hear him, or understand.

He doesn’t wake up immediately, it’s seven a.mç when he does and his alarm is what does the trick, like any other day. But he remembers every single thing.

There is only one line left. His last hope.

***

Alvaro is rolling his eyes for the second time during Dani and Marta’s make out session when his phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s his sister and he doesn’t fancy talking to her right now because he is drunk as fuck and he will get even drunker, so he doesn’t want to have a right mind when he wakes up tomorrow, to an empty arm. But he still sends a text that says “Nailing a chick right now, talk to you later.”

The reply is quick. “You are gay.”

Alvaro grins widely through the veil that fogs his mind and sends a pic of his chicken to her.

“Fuck yourself with that.”

He sighs merrily, to finally have guided his sister into this trap but his good mood disappears when his eyes catch the sight of his friends taking their acts to another level.

No chance that he will stay there when Dani has his hand down her jeans. He drowns the last bits of his plain vodka and curses Dani for the eleventh time that day for forgetting to buy juice.

Madrid is never short of nightlife, and Alvaro can argue with his life on the stake that it’s the best in Europe, no matter how much his friends argue that Belgrade would stuff Madrid in its’ back pocket.

It’s not even ten yet and he already can’t walk straight. Not a chance he will wake up before three today.

It is not long before he finds his way to a club but the night hasn’t started properly yet and he uses that time to get even more smashed. He doesn’t object when a big, muscular man takes his arm to dance, his crotch always on him, to be more exact, his thigh because he is easily a head shorter than him. Alvaro doesn’t hesitate to join a group of girls when they call him over with their hooked fingers. Normally, he wouldn’t dance in the middle of a circle made of girls, but today is far from normal because tomorrow will mark another year of not being able to be with his soulmate.

The girls let him go when he trips over his own feet and falls over a girl, one of them taking his arm and making him sit on a chair. The chair doesn’t feel very secure, wobbling under his weight, though it might just be his head. He demands another drink but the girl brings him a bottle of water. She doesn’t listen when he mutters something about being not that drunk but she just rolls her eyes and forces him to drink it. He feels better but worse, for falling over her friend. He starts to apologise but she hushes him with a kind laugh, eyes turning over his arms a few times before Alvaro looks at his arm too.

He frowns and brings his arm in front his face, too close to see but in his drunkenness he thinks he can’t see because it’s too far away and basically shoves his arm into his eyes.

The girl takes his arm away from his face carefully and shouts somehow softly, “Your birthday?”

Alvaro takes his phone out of his pocket and realises it indeed his birthday. He hums and shakes his head few times to make sure he is not imagining things, an unwise thing to do with that much vodka and gin in his system. “Am I that drunk that I’m seeing soulmates on my arm?” he asks with a small voice and there is not a chance the girl hears him over the noise but she nods and Alvaro stands up suddenly, his cells exploding one by one.

He thinks he is okay, that he can go home normally and deal with this in a mature way but as soon as he is on his feet, he feels the bile gather in his throat and he runs blindly in the stuffy club to get the fuck out and he manages it thanks to a few thoughtful people who is nice enough to let him pass. He empties his stomach just outside the club and he faintly hears a girl shriek and swear at him.

He spends his last money to take a cab to take him home, which was about five hundred meters away but he doesn’t even remember that.

When he is inside his house, he has to run the bathroom again and when he is finished, he doesn’t remember how he got home or why, so he throws himself to the kitchen floor, which is nice, cool and just a little untidy.

 

***

A hand shakes his body but it doesn’t just feel like a hand, it feels like the God’s hand because obviously he is in hell and he is being punished for something but his thoughts aren’t coherent enough to make out for what.

“Mate, go to your bed,” someone says and it’s the voice of devil because nothing should hurt that much. The devil is insistent and going along with the God’s hand because he is being carried to his bed, with curses ringing in his head because the devil just wont stop talking.

And the devil doesn’t take pity on him, unsurprisingly but he still would’ve expected more from him because everyone gets hangovers and even devil should be pitying about this. He is forced to drink water but it tastes like mud. He doesn’t know if he should kiss the devil when a cup of coffee is pressed into his hands.

After he finishes his coffee, he opens his eyes to look into the eyes of the devil. Obviously, it’s just Dani.

“Dude, it was only one when you got back,” he says quietly when he sees his face sour at the lights escaping the curtains.

“I got carried away,” he confesses, words leaving his out slowly. He doesn’t remember anything after seeing his friends start snogging.

Dani sighs, “Well, happy birthday.”

Alvaro moans, not able to think about the meanings of a birthday and hides his face in his pillow to ease the headache. The painkillers have never been very efficient on him and he hates it the most when he is hangover.

Dani tugs his arm, which is tucked beneath his head and Alvaro makes a pathetic, begging sound but Dani ignores him to trace his forearm with the tip of his finger. Alvaro abruptly stands straight and stares at his arm in horror.

“Congratulations.”

***

His head throbs but he fights it with his all will and opens his laptop to get over with this shit. He googles “how to connect with your soulmates” and relief floods his body when he reads it’s as easy as breathing, as much as he can be relieved with the taste of puke in his mouth.

The process is easy enough. He had exactly twenty-three lines when he started but after an hour, the number is seventeen. Four of them were females, so those ones took little to no time to eliminate. One of the males was apparently dead and the other… He just didn’t feel connected.

He hopes he isn’t fucking it up.

The more he does this, the more it really feels like breathing and Alvaro thinks maybe he should make a blog post about it too. He doesn’t know what he can contribute to a subject that had been talked and researched for thousands of years but a few more words won’t hurt anybody.

He smiles widely when he slips into his mind. He doesn’t know what he is doing but he is relaxed and a little hazy, maybe preparing breakfast for himself or taking a shower.

The name Isco echoes around him, probably someone is calling for him. Álvaro feels his imaginary heart beats speed up at the thought that there will be no language barrier if he chooses this Isco.

One moment Isco is chill and maybe happy, then he is tense and even fucking terrified. A few moments spent there lets him know the reason, the fear of rejection. He doesn’t know how old Isco, how many times he could’ve been rejected but he still feels like shit for making a person feel like someone’s pointing a gun at their forehead.

Memories flood to him and he almost doesn’t have enough time for all of them. He wants to see everything, so he can’t catch many details but he sees he was right about Isco’s language because Spain is all around him and it warms his heart.

A little Isco run on the hot sands, a younger kid going after him with bright sand toys in his hand.

An older, very much attractive Isco breathing into a girl’s neck, his muscles stiff with the effort to hold himself until the girl is coming.

A little baby in his muscled arms, trying to soothe her crying.

Arguing with a girl about adoption.

A football going into the back of the net and the sheer bliss that comes after when people jump at his back.

The impossible pain when he falls from a tree and breaks his wrist.

The crack of knuckles when his fist collides with a guy’s shoulder and the taste of blood when he bites his shin.

_I want to see him happy._

And suddenly he is in a slightly lit room, only light coming from the television and there are only two people, besides Alvaro, if you can count him. Isco’s head is laying on some woman’s leg, certainly his mother giving how much they look alike and she is caressing his hair softly as he asks her to but food for his dog.

_I want see him sad._

A younger Isco appears, when he was a teenager, a hideous tshirt on him but somehow it is the most adorable thing Alvaro has seen. He would’ve liked to watch him a little longer if the hidden pain in his eyes didn’t strike him in the chest as his eyes roamed over his arm. Isco slowly closes his eyes and the memory is over, maybe it’s something Isco repressed, Alvaro guesses.

_I want to see him with his friends._

A brunette girl hands him a book, talking loudly and making grand gestures with her delicate hands. Her words are muffled because obviously Isco doesn’t listen, or maybe he doesn’t understand her but he pretends to be interested and nods as her voice gets higher and louder.

_I want to see him struggle._

He is in the middle of a big classroom and there are about thirty people in there. Alvaro watches as he hits his feet on the ground rhythmically, and the distress on his face is evident. But suddenly his body relaxes and he angles himself a little to the left. Alvaro can see him clearly from wherever he is now, trying to catch few answers from the girl in front of him.

_I want to see him terrified._

He laughs as he watches him google to find out how to connect with your soulmate. He can’t see what happened there but he can see it’s quite distressing as Isco thrashes himself around in his bed, hands curling in his hair. He waits until it’s over but it feels like forever and he feels bad for this guy once again, that he had to go through that, whatever it was.

_I want to see him jealous._

A boy who very much looks like his shows a phone into his face and says “Her brother wants me to take him to my gallery.” Isco grins widely and cracks a joke about seducing everyone around him, but Alvaro can sense the sharp rebellion in his emotions, at the God, at the universe that he doesn’t have shit when everyone’s got everything.

_I want to see him mad._

“Why are you even surprised to be alone man? You’re fucking annoying. No one wants to be with someone who just keeps on fighting and can’t have fun.” It’s his brother again and Alvaro is sure he has never felt a pleasure so deep ever when Isco kicks his brother in his balls with the force of every muscle he has.

_I want to see him in love._

There isn’t anything around him now and Alvaro can feel Isco again. He feels the hope and the fear but he is slipping back to his own body and he whispers quickly before he once again sees his room, “Malaga,” because that’s all the can say, just one word, like every other person on the planet was able to find their soulmate.

He hopes it was clear enough that Alvaro is coming. He is coming for his soulmate.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys obviously I know nothing about how things are in Spainish universities, I’m just rolling with something. I googled some shit but they were hardly useful and in Spanish. Forgive me for my horrible mistakes. Enjoy!

It’s been few days since Alvaro met Isco, figuratively, and as expected, he only has one and only line on his arm. His parents and sister and friends, basically everyone around him, thinks he acted too brash because they found their soulmates much later than he did after earning their lines and it makes Álvaro genuinely furious because he is not a child and he fucking knows what he feels and there was no way in this universe which he will let go of Isco. He is so damn sure there will be no one as compatible as him and he wants to feel what he felt when he wandered around Isco’s mind fort he rest of his life and he want to know everything about this boy, to lift every layer he has on his skin and kiss him until they are out of breath every second of the day.

So he ignores everyone because their worry makes him enraged, because they just don’t understand, they don’t even try and he throws himself into looking for Isco online. His search on Internet doesn’t give much, even though he narrows his research as much as he can. Either Isco doesn’t have any social media or he just can’t find him. He doesn’t think the first one is the case on the hand because he remembers he saw Isco using Facebook but he can’t remember the details and it frustrates him more than his mother’s never ending doubts.

He gives up after few days, mostly because he promised Isco he would go to him. He knows it is stupid to go to Malaga all blind but that’s all he has and it can’t be that hard, Malaga is not so big after all. _Just_ one and a half million.

He ignores everyone again and books a plane ticket to the closest date. He rubs his eyes tiredly when he gets off the plane, angry with himself for not looking for any other clues about him in his mind while he had chance but he will make do with the things he has in hand.

He looks around in the bus on his way to city centre and Malaga is just as he expected, warmer and smaller. In his mind, it looks too tiny for Isco, like it can’t handle Isco’s shine or energy but Alvaro knows he isn’t objective. Also, Isco loves Malaga, so he won’t think badly of this city.

Actually that’s one thing he has been refusing to think about. He thought about not being able to find Isco for a long time, or Isco being reluctant to be with him, wondering if he had better chances but he didn’t think what he would do if Isco wanted to stay in Malaga. Would they try a long distance relationship or would he have to move to Malaga?

But moving to Malaga sounds just ridiculous because he belongs to Madrid, he was born there, raised there and almost everyone he loves lives there. He knows he is being hypocrite because these are most likely what Isco feels about Malaga but he still can’t help but hope Isco will be eager to move to Madrid.

He goes straight to University of Malaga after he gets himself a pack of mint gums and a sandwich. The university is obviously smaller than his own in Madrid but it still has about thirty thousand students, which makes finding him almost impossible.

But no one has accused Alvaro of being not determined enough.

First he tries to get into the university but is not allowed but he also expected that, so he pretends to be okay with it and waits until the security is distracted to get in. He’s always been into things that pumped adrenaline in his veins, so he enjoys those moments more than a usual person. After that, he decides it was not so smart because he just can’t go and ask about a student randomly. They’ll probably think he is a stalker.

So that’s what he does exactly. Few students he asks don’t know about him, which is ridiculous because everyone should know about that gorgeous person.

The woman in consultation regards him with suspicious eyes and tells him she can’t share private information about students and asks how he got in if he isn’t a student. He clears his throat and pretends he didn’t hear her question and tries to get away with thanking her loudly but she stops him before he can get out of the room and waves to another security to escort him out.

After he is outside he wants to rewind the time for a few hours so he doesn’t have to experience that shame. He also doesn’t have shelter above him for the night because he didn’t think to book a hotel room for himself but he doesn’t beat himself for that because it can be easily solved.

Or he thought. He doesn’t know how to get around the city and he doesn’t know where he’ll go, so he doesn’t have anything to ask to people anyway.

The worst of it, his phone is dead. But he refuses to be forlorn and gets into a café and charges his phone while he drowns his coffee and mosaic cake. He asks the waitress if there are any cheap hotels around the university and she tells him how to go there.

It rains outside bur he doesn’t have umbrella but he still doesn’t let it get to him even though his legs ache and he isn’t any closer to finding Isco than he was two days ago. The hotel is old and the hygiene is questionable but it’s cheap and Alvaro doesn’t feel strong enough to look for another hotel.

He wakes up at twelve o’clock and his growling stomach is what wakes him up. The tiredness in his bones tells him he could’ve slept much longer if his stomach didn’t threaten to eat him from inside. He feels much less hopeful than he felt yesterday but he still showers and dresses into clean clothes, makes his hair and goes out to have breakfast. He ignores the calls from his mother and just text her to let her know he isn’t dead in a pit.

After the breakfast he goes back to the university’s hospital, which is very close to his hotel and waits sitting on a bench for Isco to appear from the university gates. After a while, he gets bored and starts to play with his phone, lifting his head only when he hears the gate open. But his phone is almost dead when it’s five pm and Alvaro doesn’t think it will do any good to him to wait any longer.

He goes back to his hotel and sleeps again.

It’s seven am the next day he wakes up and he hurries to the other gate of the university so he can watch people coming in for morning classes and he is more alert than he was yesterday, he sits straight and narrows his eyes every time he sees a dark haired boy.

Universe is always there to help his children reunite, even though sometimes it fucks up and matches people who are really bad for each other. It doesn’t give you another chance at finding yourself a new soulmate if your choice was wrong, which is why he lost every single line on his arm after he felt Isco is the one. But it still loves everyone in its’ arms and helps them.

Alvaro thinks this is why he finds Isco that morning and Alvaro knows in that moment he made the right choice, that this boy is the one and he can even move to Malaga for him.

He is wearing white Nike sneakers which is not very suitable for the rainy weather, and his arms are tangled with his earphones and umbrella and damn Alvaro if it isn’t the most endearing thing he’s seen his whole life.

He gets up and runs towards him ignoring them weird looks he gets. He kind of got used to getting those in Malaga in these few days. He is out of breath when he reaches Isco and calls out for him. Isco turns to him with surprised eyes, shining and reflecting the rain that’s pouring over their head. His face changes dramatically when he sees it’s Alvaro looming over him and mumbles something to himself suspiciously sounds like “I didn’t think you’d come.” But it’s so ridiculous for Isco to think he wouldn’t come.

He smiles crookedly, hopefully, trying to see him clearly despite the rain clogging his sight and waits still for him to say or do something, even though every part of him yells at him to touch him, feel him after being separated for so long, for all those years they could’ve been together.

But apparently Isco doesn’t feel the same way because he suddenly turns back to run to his school, splashing water around and leaving bewildered Alvaro looking after him.

After that, all Álvaro can hope for is that Isco will come out of that gate. He tries to tell him maybe he was shocked or in hurry. He tries to put himself in his place but it really doesn’t do anything to ease the hurt. He gets warm in a café, again, and keeps an eye on the gate. He doesn’t have to wait too long, only a few hours, despite being sure he’d have to wait until late at evening.

Isco looks around hesitantly and it’s all takes for Alvaro to leave generous amount of money on his table and run out to catch him.

“Isco,” he calls out again and this time Isco doesn’t look shocked but he looks relieved. But he still doesn’t say anything, just stares and Alvaro feels hot under the intensity of his hazel eyes and tries not to squirm, laughing awkwardly when his stare goes on for too long. He wonders if Isco sees some kind of deformation on his face he can’t see and can’t help himself to look.

But he shakes himself out of his daze after few minutes and mumbles a low apology. “Come…” he starts, “let’s go to my apartment.”

It’s less than Alvaro hoped for when he first came to Malaga but much more than he expected after their first meeting in real life, so he accepts the offer eagerly nodding and it draws a small smile from Isco and Alvaro counts it as a victory.

The ride to his home is extremely awkward, especially that they are sitting next to each other in tight traffic and Isco avoids looking at him like a plague while Alvaro can’t help but stare at him for long periods, making Isco clear his throat uncomfortably occasionally, snapping Alvaro out of it. He mumbles an apology after the third time but Isco suddenly looks guilty and shakes his head like a madman, making Alvaro nervous about traffic but the words coming out of his mouth in the next seconds makes him forget all about his worries about their lives. “I don’t mind, really.”

“Okay,” Alvaro says, trying to keep his tone cool but his breath hitches anyways, “I really don’t want to make it any awkward.”

They both hear the unsaid “than it already is” but neither of them wants to voice it. Isco clears his throat again and asks when he came to Malaga.

Glad the silence isn’t as deafening as before, Alvaro starts telling him the story ardently, almost drowning in ecstasy when Isco laughs when he tells him how the security brought him out.

“I study tourism,” Isco tells him when Alvaro asks him what he studies. Alvaro sucks in a breath, “Fucking cool, do you go to places already to show people around?”

Isco laughs again, “Not really, I mean we are sometimes assigned in museums and historical sites around the area if tourists apply for guides sometimes. I haven’t done much yet, I don’t even know if I want to be a guide or work at a hotel or in some museum or something.”

It’s the longest he talked and even though he says he doesn’t know what he will do in the future, he sounds happy about his indecision. “But you like it right?” he asks shyly, to be sure, careful not to be too invasive.

Isco shrugs and smiles a little at him to put him at ease. “Yeah, I made a good choice.”

“I’m happy for you,” Alvaro says, meaning every word and Isco seems to be aware of it too but he still seems to be uncertain to be quick about throwing himself into their relationship, whatever it is.

“And what about you?”

“I’m about to finish Spanish literature in Madrid,” he says and Isco pulls his car aside and nods his head out to point at an apartment. It looks exactly like a student apartment and the noises coming off from it confirms his guesses.

“Do you work right now?”

“Kind of, I do editing for some minor magazines. They don’t pay much but I also work for a bookstore, and it looks like they will be giving me some new author’s books to edit.”

“You good at it?” Isco asks casually, a teasing smirk on his lips as he lights a cigarette. Alvaro raises his eyebrows and shrugs, “I’m more than decent. You smoke a lot?”

“I’m trying to quit,” Isco says, wrinkling his face like a kid eating a sour candy. He puffs out the smoke with his lips pursed so erotically that someone like Alvaro, who never found anyone hot while they smoked, felt like someone grabbed his dick over his jeans. “You want one?” Isco offers and Alvaro just takes it to have something to do with his hands other than grabbing at his hair in frustration. He opens his palm for lighter but Isco just gets closer to him enough to count his eyelashes and waits until Alvaro lights his own. He smirks again when Alvaro almost drops it on the floor when he looks too long at Isco’s face but Alvaro just cheekily grins back instead of blushing and hiding his face.

Isco’s apartment, which he shares with only one person, Sergio, a skinny blonde kid, is tiny but useful. It’s cleaner than most of student houses and Isco explains to him Sergio is a clean freak but he’s been out of the city with his girlfriend for the past few days or nothing in the house would be out of place.

Alvaro is relieved to hear Sergio has a girlfriend and he doesn’t have to compete with a roommate. Isco throws him the remote and tells him to entertain himself while he prepares them lunch but Alvaro just follows him to the kitchen and watches Isco, occasionally helping. Like closing the fridge’s door.

Isco puts chicken and rice in front of him in five minutes, microwaved. He tells his mother brought these yesterday and he doesn’t have to be afraid to get poisoned. It’s better than anything he has done in his own apartment and he finishes his meal a lot before Isco does.

They don’t talk much because they don’t know what to say but they get more comfortable, especially Isco. He goes out to balcony to smoke again when Alvaro goes through his library and DVD collection. Alvaro yelps in triumph, making Isco strain his neck to see what’s happening inside. He gets the Lord of the Rings Trilogy out and he waves it in front of his ridiculously attractive face. Isco laughs earnestly at his excitement and puts it on in few minutes. The marathon is better than any marathon he had, even better than the time he first watched them because he can feel the warmth coming from Isco when he stretches and Isco is so fucking funny and relaxed after three beers which Alvaro takes note of.

They don’t learn much about each other but they learn they get on fucking well and Alvaro is just relieved Isco is not trying to escape like he did that morning.

When it’s time for them to sleep, Isco gives him his own bed, saying Sergio doesn’t like strangers to sleep in his bed. While Alvaro had his fantasies about sleeping with him, he knows they were very unlikely to happen, so he just feels sated to know Isco likes him enough to give his own bed.

But when he wakes up, Isco is asleep on the couch they sat whole day and his neck looks to be in a painful position. He wakes him up quickly, reminding him he has morning classes again. Waking him up proves to be harder than he expected and Isco groans painfully through the breakfast. After that, he lets him drive while he rests his head on the window and keeps on sleeping. Alvaro almost lets him sleep a little more but he doesn’t give into the urge and shakes himawake.

He hesitates before they separate. “I’ll be done at three. Take your things and wait for me by my car?”

Alvaro feels like the world were lifted from his shoulders and smiles reassuringly at his soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave feedback, it's what motivates me! :*

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated!


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